Delicate
by purple elephant
Summary: How long can two lives be intertwined without acknowledgement? How long can one heart go invested without reciprication? Will he notice in time or will he let her go? Will she find it within herself to stand up to him? One night changes everything.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This is purely fictional and I do not own anyone in this story.

WARNING: This does contain mature scenes.

_Italics - Past_

Normal - Present

**Thank you very much for opening this and wanting to read. I appreciate it very much. Now on with the story.**

**CHAPTER ONE – "We might kiss when we are alone…"**

The soft knock on the door is almost inaudible as it breaks the silence of my house. I'm slightly startled by the noise, but in all honesty, I've been waiting for it. I know who it is and inwardly I can feel myself smile. My heart uncontrollably begins to race and I stop everything I'm doing. It's always the same, always around this time that I hear the faint knock, or I get that all too familiar phone call. I should send him away, and I should tell him to just turn around and go home, but I don't. I get up, walk over and just let him in. And that is what I am going to do right now.

He knocks again; softly against the wood of the door and I can hear him sigh loudly. This is my last chance to just ignore it, to walk away and set it straight once and for all. But I'm weak; I curse myself silently as I can't stop my hand from reaching forward and turning the handle, opening it to see the same figure standing in front of me, his eyes meeting mine and a soft smile curling the corners of his lips.

"Hi," he exhales.

"Hi Dougie," I smile at him, widening the entrance to the door and then stepping aside, letting him in.

He shuffles in, clad in only flannel pants and a white t-shirt, but he still looks devastatingly hot. Inappropriate thoughts start running through my head almost immediately as I let my eyes roam over his form.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Couldn't sleep," he looks at me meaningfully, the moment fleeting as he finishes it off with a smug wink, stepping in towards the kitchen leaving me in the corridor.

I follow him, taking in his frame; the width of his shoulders, the curve of his back, the bare feet padding quickly across the cold tile.

"You do realize it's almost 2 o'clock in the morning," I state, leaning against the doorframe into the kitchen, watching him look around my bare kitchen and snoop around my stuff.

"Yeah," he says non-chalantly, continuing to look around and make his way about my place, as if he belongs here, as if he isn't intruding at an ungodly hour.

"Yeah? What if I was sleeping? You would have been waking me up, and all you have to say to that is yeah?" I exclaim, with a slight annoyance twisting my voice, but also an air of playfulness. I just can't help it around him; I always want to be witty, funny, on my game per say. My voice doesn't portray the same annoyance or anger that is building inside my head.

"But you weren't," he replies, finally turning to me and giving me a cheeky smile.

That smile, the sheer cheekiness, can make my knees buckle under my weight and cloud my judgement, as it does every time this happens. I can feel my eyes soften from my attempt at a scowl as I stare at the curvature of flesh. I just collapse and give in, and let it happen over and over again. But I can't say I don't enjoy it when it happens, it's just getting a little more complicated now, and I feel myself walking on egg shells at the frailty of our situation. But to me, he seems to be at ease, completely relishing in what this is.

"And how do you know I wasn't?" I ask him. "All my lights are off, it's 2 am, I very well could have been sleeping," I continue, crossing my arms a little tighter across my chest and giving him my best stern face for emphasis. I'm not pleased, well not entirely, and I want him to think that I'm not. I like to tell myself that I'm not that easy. Liar.

"I could see the light from your laptop, through my window," he looks at me, continuously stepping closer, his eyes never leaving mine, "you always work late into the night," he finishes.

"Oh so now you're peaking into my house at late hours of the night, you perve," I say shocked, giving him a hard push on the shoulder, his body now considerably closer to mine.

He grabs my hand, holding it tightly in his grasp, the heat radiating from his skin through mine, my face suddenly feeling a hundred degrees hotter. I start to laugh nervously; even now he still manages to make me all anxious around him. And when he touches me, well I lose any trace of calm and collectiveness that I might have had, which wreaks havoc on my nerves, and melts my very bones. I'm not supposed to be like this.

"So I'm a little pervy, that's what curtains are made for," he says cockily, his arm dropping down and wrapping around my waist, pulling me abruptly towards him.

"Dougie…" I start, my voice low, as our eyes continue to remain locked in the same position; mine staring into his, his returning the same gaze.

"You like me for all my perviness," he says, trying to lighten the mood.

He can tell that I'm trying to say something serious, and he doesn't want to crack this fragile thing between us. It's hanging on by thin threads, buckling under the weight of the inevitability of what is going to happen, of how things naturally progress. We can only fool ourselves for so long. We can only hide this and tuck it away from prying eyes for so long.

"Who says I like you at all?" I ask, giving into the playfulness, figuring the unavoidable words can be spoken later, maybe in the lightness of the day. But in the sunlight, all of this is different, almost non-existent.

"Oh, so you open your door for just anyone now do you?" he whispers, bringing his face closer to mine, continuing to scan my features, his soft eyes gliding effortlessly across my skin.

"Well, when my next-door neighbour comes knocking at my door, I just find it polite to answer," I say matter-of-factly, stepping back.

I pull out of his arms and take a stride back, taking in a shallow breath to try and ease my trembling nerves. I'm giving him playful banter, it's what he wants and I need to keep it up. It used to come easily, naturally between us. But it started to become more and more difficult as soon as every fibre of my being wanted to say something a little more meaningful.

I continue to back up on the open floor of the kitchen, walking towards the counter and leaning against it, my eyes never leaving his. And so the dance begins; why do we even play this anymore? We should just get to it; let it happen because we know how it ends every time.

"Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?" I offer, making my way over to the fridge, peering in to see what I can possibly give him.

"Yeah sure," he answers, walking across the room and taking a seat at the table, across from my laptop.

"So what were you working on?" he asks me, looking at my screen to try and figure out what keeps me awake at these late hours of the evening.

My work is only a part of why I can't sleep lately, the other being the fetching gentleman sitting here in my kitchen at 2 am in the morning, clad in only his pyjamas. This is becoming way too complicated and I'm never one for making things difficult, or really knowing how to deal with them. Damn it.

"I was just finishing up some work on my project, it's due soon," I told him, handing him the glass of grape juice as I take a seat beside him, brushing my thigh seductively against his.

The involuntary action is damned in my eyes. I'm asking for this, I'm being stupid. Internally, I curse myself for being unable to stop this flirtation, but just being around him causes every cell in my body to want to play this game. A war between what my brain is screaming and what my body is ignoring rages on, and I am done for.

"Oh well I don't want to disturb you then, I'll leave you to it," he says, he voice suddenly low and almost apologetic. It's part of the damn game!

He's continuing this, pushing ever so slightly but not provoking. He wants me to say something; he wants me to want him. What he doesn't know, or won't let me say, is that he doesn't have to try; I undoubtedly want this or I wouldn't be letting it happen.

I grab his wrist, pulling him back down, his body slamming down into the seat of the chair with a slight thud. He looks at me, that same grin on his face, and my own face motionless. This is what I mean; I can't control myself. I have a treacherous body. I'm falling and getting caught on my way down in the delicate web that we have sewn.

"Ow," he says, rubbing his hip with his free hand, the one that I'm not clutching to.

"Sorry," I mumble, "you don't have to go," I whisper, my eyes now permanently fixed on my lap, and stealing glances of my wrapped fingers around his thin wrist. I'm weak, I'm too bloody weak around him!

I let go, suddenly aware of how awkward it is. No words are spoken between us as I feel his hand reach up to my face and cup it gently. It's sweet how he just tenderly touches me, almost lovingly one would say. But no other actions of his mirror this in the slightest bit. For me though, I can only seem to focus on these fleeting moments, the tender touches that cease to exist in the sunlight.

He pulls my face to his roughly and connects his lips to mine, setting off a spark inside me, my skin setting a blaze from his touch. I can feel his lips move on mine, I'm incapable of resisting, my own actions giving into his and my mind becoming blurry. He leans into me, across the seat and I find myself falling backwards, my back hitting the hard wood of the chair back. He presses harder into me, my lips slightly bruising from his pressure, but the numbness completely overwhelming and suffocating at the same time; a great feeling.

But my mind kicks in, my rationale beckoning me back out of the kiss, and my legs straighten, pushing his weight off of me, lips whipping out of contact. Getting up I back away quickly from the chair, breathing hard I stare helplessly at him.

My hand rushes to my lips, feeling the same fleeting tingle that erupts as soon as his lips touch mine. It's a wonderful sensation, but it's overwhelming and it undoubtedly clouds my judgement. My eyes are wide, and I can see the puzzled expression on his face.

He gets up and walks closer to me; his steps are slow and heavy as they close the distance between us. He gives me a weak smile, almost unsure of what to do next; I don't usually react this way to his advances. I usually crumble, just becoming a plaything for him. I continue to move back, my back hitting the counter behind me. Feeling trapped, my mind races to find an escape route, as he continues to move towards me with his hesitant steps.

He corners me though, sooner than I can come up with something to say, something to let me express what is racing through my mind at that very moment. His arms brace around my body, resting on the counter top, boxing me in his frame. I inhale deeply, trying to stop the shaking that has taken over my body. As I inhale, I can smell him, the soft but clean smell of his clothing, or the faint scent of his soap. The smell gets me, intoxicates me and I find myself just wanting to bury myself in it.

His gaze strikes mine, not breaking once, but searching for something. I don't know if he can see the pure fear that is pooling there, or the fact that I am dying to scream what is playing on repeat in my head. He approaches my face slowly, allowing me time to pull away or shift my head, but I don't; I remain completely frozen to my spot and just let his lips connect with the skin of my jaw.

He plants a soft kiss, pulling away just enough to look me in the eyes again, a loud breath that I'm holding escaping my lips. He smiles in satisfaction and moves in for more contact, his lips now lowering to my neck, finding that spot that is like a switch for eruptions to go off; waves of tingles crashing along my skin.

"Oh God Doug," I exhale as his lips continue to move slowly and meticulously across my neck.

He takes this as a go ahead, and attaches his mouth to mine once more, his hands wrapping around my face and pulling me closer into him. Our lips move frantically over each other, my arms now draped on his shoulders heavily. My fingers intertwine into his hair, grabbing it and pushing him into me further. His hands wrap around my waist and his palms press into my lower back, pushing my body firmly into his. He slips his fingers slowly beneath the waistband of the shorts I'm wearing, my whole body exploding with the all too familiar goose bumps.

"Aren't these mine?" he asks, ripping his lips from mine and leaving me gasping for much needed air.

I just stare at him blankly, unable to form a comprehendible thought as I'm still spinning from the earth shattering kiss. His eyes drop to my shorts, boxer shorts to be more specific, as he plays with the band of the waist. They're his, but I've been wearing them to sleep lately. Probably shouldn't be doing that.

"Oh," I finally speak, my voice fragile, "yeah."

"What is it with you and boys clothing?" he asks, brushing a stray hair from my eyes gently, giving me a lop-sided cheeky grin as he starts to kid. Thank God he's holding me up, because there go my knees.

"I like them, they're comfortable," I reply, finally finding my voice again, managing to fake some confidence.

If only that was the true reason. If only he knew that I wear them as a sentimental object; for once being the typical girl and holding onto a boy's article of clothing.

"I thought girls wore some fancy negligee thing to bed," he says, leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on my cheek, "it would be very sexy," he murmurs in my ear as he pulls away from me.

"And since when have I been girly?" I ask, smiling at him and grabbing the material of his shirt loosely in my hand.

* * *

_Four moving trucks in a row; all abstracting the nice view that is my quaint side street.__ I like the side street; it's almost like an oasis from the busy bustle of the forever alive city that I call home. I continue to walk along the sidewalk, stealing glances up the drive ways to see who my new neighbours will be; well not really next door neighbours per say, but neighbours nonetheless._

_I don't see many people, maybe the occasional mid forties guy walking out of the house and into the truck, clad in greasy blue overalls. They must be the movers. __So no sign of the new occupants of the four houses.__ It's weird to have four people move in at the same time, side by side. I hope it's not some weird family that decides to move every where together. Oh God, please not that._

_I finally pass the trucks, getting to my drive way at the end of the street. Well, it seems that the last truck is actually my next door neighbour, the one that I share a driveway with. This should be interesting, now I am more curious than ever as to who exactly is moving in._

_I walk slowly up the driveway, my eyes darting around to see some form of an occupant apart from the greasy middle aged men that are sweating buckets as they make their way from the house to the truck and repeat. No one, I can't find the person that is moving in. I make my way to the stairs and stop, leaning across the railing to see into the wide open front door of the next door house, trying to steal a glance of the new occupant. So I'm nosey._

_"Hey, can you not just stand there and maybe help me with this dude?" I hear a voice say behind me._

_Did he just call me dude? I look in the direction of the voice and I see a pair of legs, arms and an absolutely insanely huge box barely being held up; I can't see the face or the top half of the body. I don't say anything, I just kind of stand there, not really knowing what to say. He expects ME to help him carry THAT?_

_"Hello? Can you help me man?" he repeats._

_What is it with this 'man' business? I am definitely NOT a guy. I look down and see my shoes, my jeans and it finally hits me; it must be the shoes. I don't' say anything, I just grab the end of the box facing me and I start to move backwards, up the stairs and towards the house._

_"Lift a little dude, I can't hold this," he yells to me, his voice muffled behind the box as we struggle up the stairs._

_I strain, trying to do my best to lift the box and not let it go, crushing him beneath the weight of whatever behemoth he has in here. What the hell could weigh so much? I am not made for heavy upper body lifting._

_We finally make it into the house; my eyes wander as we continue to move backwards. Finally I can feel him dropping the box down, my body following his and setting the heavy object down._

_"Hey thanks mate, I appreciate it…" he starts, breaking off mid sentence as his eyes finally meet mine._

_I really wish I had a camera at this moment, he's completely shocked. His jaw literally hit the floor and I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his sockets. It was funny really; I guess he wasn't expecting a girl. I just smile at him and give him a look, you know 'a look', and tuck my hair behind my ear. _

_"No problem, anytime," I answer, feeling myself get a little self-conscious all of a sudden._

_We stand there awkwardly for a bit, not really knowing what to say. Do I just leave, walk out and not say anything else? Do I stay and continue to make this more awkward than it already is? Do I introduce myself? He's cute, no wait, he's rather hot. That just makes this situation all that more awkward._

_"Sorry about that, I thought you were a guy," he finally breaks the silence, his hand rubbing the back of his neck out of embarrassment. I swear I made out a little hue of red on his cheeks, but that could have been from the heavy lifting he just did._

_"I figured when you called me dude and man," I laughed, him copying me in response. This situation really was comical._

_"I'm __Dougie__," he finally steps forward, to the side of the box, extending his hand to me._

_"__Jac__," I say, his eyes widening at my words._

_"You're kidding right?" he laughs, breaking the contact from my hand and stepping back._

_My hand suddenly feels very warm; it must be from that laborious lifting I just did. I quickly drop it to my side and wipe it across my jeans; why am I a little nervous? I look at him with a puzzled expression on my face. What was I joking about? __My name?__ I guess it is fitting since he thought I was a guy._

_"It's short for Jacqueline, but you can call me __Jac__," I explain, pulling the bag I'm carrying further up my shoulder._

_Another awkward silence, and now I'm sure that I'm just being weird standing here. I should probably leave. I'm sure he doesn't want some creep just standing here in his new house and refusing to leave. I look up and am just about to talk when I'm interrupted._

_"So do you live around here?" he asks. _

_He's making small talk. Ok so maybe he doesn't want to get rid of me that quickly._

_"Yeah," I answer. _

_He doesn't say anything, just hoping for me to continue, his eyes waiting for me to keep going. I wait; make him sweat a little. Why am I being so coy?_

_"I actually live next door," I finally tell him, as an answering smile curls his lips._

_"Well, I guess I'm your new neighbour then," he says, giving me another grin. Damn this boy is devilishly hot. I find myself repeating, 'stop staring and __focus'_

_"So what's in the box?" I ask, looking down at the huge cardboard cube that is now standing between us._

_He suddenly looks very scared and turns a vibrant shade of red. Aw, he's cute when he blushes like that. His eyes dart from side to side and I can see that he's frantically searching for an answer._

_"Don't tell me, it's a collection of hair and nail clippings that you have brought with you from your old house?" I say, trying to break the tension that has suddenly coated the room._

_His eyes dart up at me and he bursts into laughter, a loud and booming noise filling the cavernous space. His eyes turn to small slits and his cheeks crease from the laughter. I can't help but giggle as well, his laughter almost infectious._

_"It is isn't it?" I say, wiping the stray tear that escapes my eye._

_"Oh God no," he finally says, catching his breath from his hard laughter, his arm still clutching his stomach._

_"Then what is it?" I ask. Like I said, I'm nosey and persistent._

_He doesn't say anything; he just looks at me straight-faced, and then brings his finger up to his nose, tapping the side a few times, slowly, for an added effect._

_"I see," I reply, not really knowing what he means, "__so__ you're not going to tell me then?"_

_"Nope," he smiles at me. His __eyes becoming small slits again as his grin spreads__ from ear to ear._

_"So I help you lug that huge box up the stairs and into your house and I don't even get to know the contents?" I say, feigning shock._

_"Nope," he says again, continuing to grin at me._

_"Well then, if you're not going to tell me, I'll just be on my way, and you can carry the rest of the boxes in yourself," I say, starting to make my way towards the front door._

_I can hear him laugh as I walk out into the sun, onto the front doorstep that we both share now. I make my way to my door and place the key into the lock._

_"It's nice meeting you __Jac__," I hear him say._

_I turn around and see him leaning against the door frame, arms crossed lazily across his chest. Wow, he looks good. __This a__ rather good development, having a hot neighbour for once instead of some old woman with a hundred cats._

_"Was it now?" I say, my hand still resting on the door handle._

_"Yeah."_

_"Well it was nice meeting you too __Dougie__," I say, turning back to my door and stepping in._


	2. Chapter 2

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED. I REALLY APPRECIATE IT.  
HERE'S SOME MORE.

**CHAPTER TWO – "When nobody's watching, we might take it home…"**

His arms tighten around my waist pulling me into him. He lifts me, my feet leaving the ground and seats me onto the counter, our faces now level. His tongue slowly runs along my bottom lip, my flesh quivering in response. I can't help myself; I'm indulging in something that shouldn't be happening. I can't let him do this anymore, just come over and make me melt into a pool of my former self. But again, I reiterate, I can't help myself.

His kisses are earth shattering. At first they were sweet, something a little more intense than I had ever experienced, but now they've grown. The urgency, the want is so prevailing that we become consumed into it. When did it get to this, when did we cross the line? When did it become this serious? I don't know if he feels the same weight on his shoulders, but for me, it's become bone crushing.

My mind focuses back into the kiss, as his hand slides underneath my shirt and his fingertips run slowly across the highly-sensitised skin of my stomach. The all too familiar goose bumps erupt on to my skin and I can't stop the shiver from coursing down my spine.

"You cold?" Dougie whispers into my lips, stopping the kiss but keeping his mouth still in light contact with mine.

I can't speak, my mind almost blank from the feel of his lips on mine. I wish he didn't have this effect on me; I wish I could have some backbone around him and not crumble against his advances. I wish I could voice exactly what I have been wanting to say to him for the past few days.

"No," I manage to say almost a little too firmly, my common sense returning along with my ability to speak.

He smiles, laughing to himself and then gives me a look, a look that could melt ice, along with myself, melt. He moves back in to kiss me again, but I shift my head at the last moment, knowing that I can't get sucked back in. He pulls back, a slightly puzzled expression creasing his features, but then it gives way to that same cocky expression that has grown to be irresistible for me. He just leans in again, bringing his lips closer to mine, our skin almost touching but I lean back, avoiding the heat that will ensue.

"So you're playing hard to get now?" he grins at me, his eyebrows raising and his hand leaving the skin of my stomach and wrapping itself around my upper arm, pulling me roughly into him.

"Makes it a little more interesting, but you can't resist me," he growls.

Our faces are millimetres apart, his breath just barely warming the side of my cheek. He continues to smell amazing, and I just want to grab him, have my way with him, and do unspeakable things, but I won't. I can't let this happen again. Too many times he's pulled me in and I've just been left at the wayside.

"No," I repeat a little more loudly, pulling my face away from his, and taking a good look at him. My eyes are stern, unwavering, not letting him in.

"No?" he asks, his eyebrows raising again at my statement.

"No," I repeat, stealing a glance of his fingers wrapped tightly around my arm. I pull from his grasp, hop off the counter and move away from him.

I need to take deep breaths, take a second to breathe and not be suffocated by his presence. I cross the kitchen, back over to the table and leave him standing there at the counter. Hanging my head, I close my eyes firmly and inhale deeply; 1, 2, 3 I count in my head slowly. I finally look up at him, my heart slowing down slightly and my skin a little less flushed. He's grinning at me, looking like he knows exactly what he's doing, like he knows that I'm going to crumble. He looks as if this is a game, a coy game that I'm playing. It stopped being a game a while back, when these lies and stories got too intricate for me.

He starts to walk across the room again, to close the distance between us and just be where I am right now. He steps slowly, almost seductively and I can feel my already weakened heart start to race again, my hands starting to shake uncontrollably.

"Stop Dougie," I say, my voice fragile and barely audible in the big empty space.

He doesn't listen; he just continues to walk towards me with a determination in his eye, the distance evaporating far too quickly for my liking. I step back, trying to keep the space between us, keep some distance so I can gather my thoughts and finally get out what has been bothering me for so long. I need to voice it.

I hit the wall, the back of my head echoing a soft 'thump' noise as it makes contact with the hard surface behind me. I'm not paying attention, my eyes too focused on him to realize the huge wall approaching me with each step back; I'm way too distracted.

"Ow," I mumble, my hand rubbing the soft bruise that will undoubtedly form.

I feel a second hand, not my own, reach behind my head and rub it gently; his palm placed upon the back of my hand. There's a hitch in my throat, my breathing stopping suddenly and my heartbeat ceasing before it resumes pounding in my chest at a fevered pace. I didn't hear him close the distance between us, I didn't realize he was standing right in front of me; I didn't realize, until his hand was placed upon mine, that he had managed to get to me once again.

I raise my head slowly and look at his face, the face that is a little closer than I would like it to be. He smiles at me and laughs, rubbing it gently to try and soothe the pain.

"You ok? You're such a klutz," he chuckles, giving me a knee-weakening smile; one that I could almost mistake to be laced with the smallest trace of sincere concern.

His hand moves slowly from the back of my head and reaches my cheek, cradling my face gently in its clasp. His thumb starts to move and rubs up and down slowly, a sigh leaving my mouth unknowingly. He tilts his head at me, giving me a look kind of to ask what's wrong, but I know he doesn't actually care. He just doesn't get why I'm putting up such a fight this time; this time, not like the countless times before when I didn't, the countless times when I was weak and just let him win.

"Yes, I'm fine," I say sternly, brushing his hand off, and stepping to the side.

* * *

_It's late, dark, and a little chilly. I'm stumbling up the stairs, carrying loads of paperwork, a laptop, boxes of photography, and my bag; this is where a third arm would come in very handy. It would also help if I could see where I was going. Note to self: remember to have some sort of light put in, so that you don't have to stumble in the dark. Slow steps, just one step at a time, make sure you don't drop anything Jac. That would be both stupid and embarrassing. And now, after this hell of a day, it would just be the icing on the cake._

_Now, for my keys. I didn't think of how I was going to open this door of mine. Shit. How am I supposed to get my keys out, open the door, and not drop everything in the process? Well, I guess I have no choice, here goes nothing._

_I should have joined the circus at that point; the balancing act I performed was unbelievable. It was a mix of squeezing, clutching, and balancing on one foot as the other braced itself against the wood of the door. It would have been absolutely perfect, had I not decided to trip on the threshold as I made my way into my place. Leave it to me to actually do the DIFFICULT thing and than mess up the easy bit._

"_Fuck. Ouch," I curse under my breath, falling on my ass as the contents of my box create a scattered mess around me. _

_I clutch my laptop bag; I manage to at least be sensible and save my laptop, sacrificing my ass in the process. But my laptop is worth it; it's my life, way more valuable than the fat that is my ass. I get up slowly, kneeling and looking around at all the stuff that is sprawled out on the cold front patio; I let out a loud sigh and start to pick up all my stuff. _

"_Are you alright?" I hear a voice from behind me._

_Please don't let it be him, but I already recognize the voice, and know that I am in for some huge embarrassment. I look up at him and know that my face is now a very deep shade of red, my cheeks burning. _

_Way to embarrass yourself in front of your very hot neighbour. You get a cute neighbour, flirt like mad for about three weeks, and now you go and look like a complete fool in front of him; well aren't you a catch Jac?_

"_Uh, yeah, I'm fine," I mumble, dropping my head and starting to scramble to gather all my belongings._

_I feel his presence beside me suddenly, him copying my position, kneeling beside me to help pick everything up. It's silent between us and I just focus on placing everything back in the box; no eye contact, no words, no exchanging of glances. I'm too mortified to look._

"_Thanks," I say shyly, not my usual flirtatious self after my embarrassment._

_We stand up simultaneously and look at each other for a moment and then it breaks, his eyes dropping to the box in his arms and mine to my hands clutching my bag with my laptop in it._

"_No problem," he says cheerfully, walking in towards my house and placing the box down on the floor._

_I follow him into my house, and see him standing with the box at his feet, and his head shooting from side to side as he looks at all my things. This is the first time he sees the inside of my place, our flirting usually taking place on the front porch, as we come and go from our houses._

_He turns around to me and gives me a grin, I can see that he's trying to hold back some laughter; something is very funny to him. Oh God he saw and now here comes even more embarrassment._

"_You saw didn't you?' I ask, waiting to see how he reacts._

"_Yeah."_

_He bursts into laughter and braces himself with his hands on his knees. The sound is deafening, but so damn cute at the same time. Is it possible that this guy is even cuter when he laughs? It's infectious and I can't stop myself from giggling along with him. It's funny, but not quite as funny as he thinks; he's dying over there._

"_Oh God," I exhale, burying my face into my hands and shaking my head from side to side._

"_How much did you see?" I ask, only peaking at him through the gaps in my fingers to see his expression, almost dreading what he's going to say._

_He continues to laugh, and I just close the gaps in my fingers and inhale deeply, dropping my head and dying of complete mortification. I feel two hands wrap around my wrists and pull my hands down, exposing my humiliation etched face. I look up and find that his face is extremely close to mine, a hitch presenting itself in my throat, and lodging itself there. _

"_I saw it all," he breathes and then breaks into rowdy laughter again, stepping back from me and continuing to shake violently from the laughter that is coursing through his body._

"_Oh God," I repeat again, "I'm so clumsy."_

"_It was funny really, you had this whole balancing act going and I thought you were actually going to make it, and then you just plummeted. How did you miss the threshold?" he asks, his laughter subsiding and small tears being wiped from his eyes._

"_It's not THAT funny," I say, for lack of a better defence, crossing my arms in a mocked offended manner._

"_Oh I think it is. Wish I had a camera," he continues, a fresh round of laughter starting up again._

"_So you were watching me then?" I ask, his laughter suddenly stopping and his eyes becoming slightly wide at my question._

_He doesn't say anything, slightly taken aback from my comment. Yes, now I have the upper hand, finally. He's quiet still, not really knowing what to say, and he looks nervous all of a sudden. I take it back; he might be even cuter when he's nervous._

"_What were you doing watching me huh?" I repeat, trying to pry an answer from him._

"_So I was watching a little, heard you banging up the stairs," he defends, a playful banter resuming between us._

"_You creepster, you were watching me coming home? I think I might have to move," I start to say, fake shock filling my voice._

"_Oh, but you wouldn't want to move, then we wouldn't get to share these moments," he says wishfully, one hand laid across his chest, playfully clutching his heart._

"_Oh, I think I can live without the embarrassment, thank you very much," I respond, nodding my head for emphasis._

"_It was cute," he says, his voice a little lower this time, "if it's any conciliation, you fall very gracefully," he adds, trying to sweet talk me. He's very good at that._

"_Well you're a jerk. You just stood there watching, and you could have helped me, avoided this whole mess," I tell him, annoyance present in my voice, hitting him as it travels between us._

_He doesn't say anything; he just walks forward and approaches me, filling that personal space that everyone possesses. Is it wrong that I don't mind that he's so close? Yes it is Jac; you've only known this guy for three weeks. _

_I back up slightly and hit the wall directly behind me, my hands resting behind my back. He stops in front of me, my eyes darting from side to side, looking at every inch of his face, not sure of what he's doing. I'm suddenly nervous, damn it, how did I lose that upper hand?_

"_But then I wouldn't get to be here now," he growls, his voice low and serious, but a small smile creeping into the corner of his mouth, raising it ever so slightly to show me he's enjoying this._

"_You could have helped me and then…"_

_I was cut off mid sentence by him pushing me into the wall as his lips collided with mine. His hands skillfully cup my face, pulling it into his as his body presses me further into the wall. I can't breathe, and the feel of his lips on mine is sending a jolt of electricity coursing through every nerve ending in my body. I just stand there, completely motionless, out of shock and I can feel his lips just slide over mine in a slow fashion. He pulls away from me leisurely, my eyes opening gradually. I see his face, his stare darting into my eyes to see my reaction. He has a lop-sided grin creasing his slightly swollen lips and all I can do is exhale deeply._

"_Whoa," I breathe out._

"_And I couldn't have done that," he says, his smug remark making me grin from ear to ear._

_He steps away, and pulls his hands from my face, the skin suddenly cold from where his hot touch once was. He steps back, takes one last look around my hallway and then walks towards the open door, making his way to leave._

"_Have a good night Jac," he looks at me sideways one last time, his body only stopping momentarily at the door, and then continuing to move outwards._

_I don't know what to say, I just move into the doorway and watch him cross the porch and then enter his own house. He only pauses for a second to look back at me. I still remain motionless and am at a loss for words, not knowing how to react. He laughs to himself, quietly, while shaking his head slowly from side to side, pleased with his work and my reaction._

_The door closes slowly and I mimic the action, finally closing my own. I lean against the door and move my fingertips to my lips, feeling the tingling sensation. Inwardly, all I can hear myself think is 'YES', over and over again, as my lips curl up in probably one of the goofiest smiles I have ever made._

ANY REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED._  
_


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